


Purpose

by OfTheAshTree62



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotions, F/M, Friendship, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfTheAshTree62/pseuds/OfTheAshTree62
Summary: WARNING: I'm gonna put this right up front. This is rated M for brief suicidal thoughts. Please avoid if this is a trigger for you.Nihilism. It was the philosophy by which he fought, thought, and lived. If his eye, which could perceive everything, could not see it, it did not exist. This heart Orihime referred to, the emotions by which she made her decisions, and the bonds she and her friends shared, were all invisible snippets of humanity that didn’t actually exist. At least, that was his belief. Belief didn’t always make things true.
Relationships: Ulquiorra Cifer/Inoue Orihime
Comments: 15
Kudos: 29





	1. Breaking Through Belief

**Author's Note:**

> This is my FIRST UlquiHime fic, and I'm very excited about where it's going! I hope this first chapter isn't too much of a tease until I can get done with the rest of it. Leave a comment, kudo, whatever you'd like! They give me life (and motivation)!

Every time he visited her, he understood less. She would spout off nonsense about her heart, and how she could feel her friends’ determination there. It wasn’t just feeling their energy, because he could do that just as easily. But something about their presence made her feel more secure, despite the obvious fear she had for their lives. Her fear was warranted, but this ridiculous hope that sprung up when she felt them nearing a victory was not. They would never touch her. They would die here, and so would she.

“Ulquiorra?” her soft voice came to him, and he considered not even stopping his exit. But he could practically feel her staring at him, so he halted his steps and barely turned, just enough to see her bright orange hair in his peripheral vision. It wasn’t the first time she had wished to fill his ears with pointless drivel, but he allowed it. “Ulquiorra, were you ever… happy?” she asked. The question was futile, and Ulquiorra snapped his eyes back to the door.

“Emotion is a charade. What you think you feel is false. And asking such a ridiculous question is foolish,” he replied. Orihime felt tears coming to her eyes at his answer, her eyes never leaving his back as he closed and locked the door behind him.

She slumped to the floor, wiping her eyes as tears began to flow. If Ulquiorra had never been happy, maybe he just didn’t know what it felt like. Maybe, just maybe, with a little compassion, emotion would reach into his heart, whether it existed physically or not. A sudden realization caused her eyes to jerked back up to the door. It wasn’t the first time she had consoled a Hollow. Perhaps the same thing would work for Ulquiorra. If she showed him that emotion wasn’t weakness. That emotion was real. If she showed him that someone cared, maybe…

* * *

Ulquiorra pondered her question as he sat in his designated quarters, undisturbed by the commotion in the hall. He was _designed_ , it seemed, with some dysfunction. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t understand the others. None of them. Not Yammy’s rage, or Grimmjow’s lust for destruction. He was the void. He was birthed from it. He lived in it. He accepted it. He couldn’t even feel frustration at such a lack of comprehension. However, he figured it made his existence simpler. If there were no emotions, there was no attachment. No will to survive. Only a drive to fulfill his purpose.

* * *

The next morning, Orihime diligently ate her breakfast, mostly because she was hungry, but also to avoid threats from her caretaker. She didn’t truly believe Ulquiorra would harm her, but perhaps following his orders would lighten his mood. If that was possible. When the door of her cell opened again, she turned, giving her captor the brightest smile she could manage given her circumstances. She watched as Ulquiorra walked past her, not even acknowledging her.

“You have already eaten?” he asked. Not even a trace of concern touched his voice, and she stared at the side of his face as she responded.

“Yep! I figured it would make things easier on you if I just ate my food. I mean, it’s not bad anyway. I thought maybe it would make you happy if--” her bubbly rambling was cut off by sharp green eyes boring into her. He turned to face her fully, hands still buried in his pockets as they always were.

“Something like this is meant to make me feel happiness?” he inquired, truly trying to wrap his mind around it. But his hard stare told her nothing, leaving her drowning in the seas that were his irises. Something odd pricked her heart, and she heard the unspoken _How?_ in his question. Still, she didn’t know how to answer.

“I thought… maybe, if you didn’t have to threaten me, and I did what I knew you wanted me to, you’d be… a little bit happy about it,” was the only way she knew to explain her rationale.

Ah, so it was her obedience that was meant to please him. Perhaps he understood that. Lord Aizen always seemed satisfied when his subordinates carried out his orders properly. But the actual _feeling_ of joy, or even slight relief, was lost on him. When he searched himself, he found nothing. Emotion had so long been absent from him that there wasn’t a trace remaining. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” he muttered. Within a moment, he was turning to leave again, but Orihime was desperate for him to stay. In an instant of indiscretion, she reached out and took his arm, clinging to the fabric of his jacket. She felt his muscles tense under her hand, but what she didn’t see was the widening of his eyes at the contact. It seemed that electricity sparked under his skin, from his bicep, where her hand was maintaining a tight grip, all the way down to the tips of his fingers. He flinched back from such a reaction, instantly defensive. When he whipped around to glare at her, startled by both her actions and his reaction, she recoiled, taking several steps backward to distance herself from him.

“Sorry, I just… it’s lonely here. Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she attempted to explain herself, just as quickly deciding to abandon the task. Loneliness. That was certainly something Ulquiorra had experienced. Watching his fellow Hollows gorge themselves while he was doomed to a life with nothing. So, he withdrew. Instead of reaching out, as Orihime had to him, he had withdrawn to the furthest reaches of the abyss.

“You will die alone here,” he stated, though at this point it seemed to be a habitual defense against her ridiculous claims. As if someone like him could cure loneliness. Staying with her would only deepen her despair.

“Wait!” she called just as he had turned and taken the first step toward the door. He let out an exasperated breath, not even perceptible at the distance Orihime stood. With his back to her, he listened. “You’ve really never been happy?” she asked quietly. Ulquiorra stared at the large door before him, considering her question for a moment. He had only ever felt anything akin to satisfaction once in his life.

“I am at peace with myself,” he replied pertly. He knew it didn’t truly quench her curiosity, but it was all he could think to say. He _was_ at peace, in a way. Though this happiness and the heart Orihime was constantly prattling on about did pique his curiosity, that was all it was. Curiosity. Not a need to experience it. Certainly not. Emotions only led these humans to danger. Her saviors were suffering because of their attachment to her, and he would have no part in something so preposterous. His service to Lord Aizen was his purpose, and when that was fulfilled, he would return to the void and wait, content with the emptiness that kept him safe.

“I hope you’re lying,” Orihime whispered. Her heart battled against the idea that someone who was so overtly miserable could be at peace with himself. She wanted so badly to go to him, despite his previous response to her touch. She was finally beginning to suffer. Her light was burning low, and she needed someone. Ulquiorra was the only one left. None of the others were allowed to interact with her, and based on what she had heard in the halls, she was absolutely certain she didn’t want them to. At least Ulquiorra was calm. Her eyes shot up as he began to walk away, and she felt her heart pound in her ears at the prospect of being alone in this cold cell again. “I could… tell you some of the things that make me happy,” she offered. She had to talk to someone. She hated feeling like she was wasting away, and he was her only outlet.

“What do you think that would accomplish? I have no interest in absurd anecdotes that only display your horrid dependence on others,” he insisted, continuing toward the exit. Orihime let him go this time. She didn’t even know what she was going to tell him. About Tatsuki, and how their friendship had gotten her through some of the toughest times of her life? About Ichigo, and how his protection of her made her feel important and loved? About Uryu, and how bonding with him in the Soul Society had brought her comfort and confidence in a dangerous and unfamiliar situation? All of those memories made her happy. But here, in this empty place, it all seemed so distant. Though she could sense Ichigo and Uryu and Chad nearby, they had never felt further away.

* * *

It was only hours before Ulquiorra returned, but he hesitated at the door this time. She would only try to press her experiences on him again. What was more disturbing was that he found himself more often considering what she said. A long-lost part of him wanted to understand. When he opened the door, though, he had to search to find her. Normally, she was standing in the middle of the room, staring up at the ever-present moon with longing as she investigated the spirit energy that was practically bursting through the walls. This time, she was huddled against the wall under the barred window, tears streaming down her cheeks. Something strange roiled inside him. What was it? He couldn’t place it, though he knew he had felt it before. A strange sensation gnawing at his gut as he stared, wide-eyed and helpless. Fear. It was fear. But that was irrational. Why would he be afraid? He had seen the girl cry before, and nothing had ever sprung up so unexpectedly. He tensed when she looked up to him, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

“I d-didn’t expect you to come back so soon,” Orihime stuttered, trying to collect herself.

“I am merely fulfilling my duty as your caretaker,” Ulquiorra lied. He hoped the deadpan of his voice held steady despite the unsettling feeling that coursed through him. Orihime stood as she finished drying her cheeks, giving him a smile.

“I’m glad I’m not really alone,” she told him. This only furthered his discomfort. She actually considered him any amount of company? He couldn’t even produce a response, instead changing the subject entirely after turning to close the door of her cell.

“How can you smile when you know you will die here?” he asked. Orihime was taken aback by the question. If she was honest, she smiled to keep from falling apart. She smiled to remind herself that there was something waiting beyond her captivity.

“I smile… because I remember the good things,” she spoke softly, her eyes averting to the dark hole that rested just below his clavicle. It was just one of the things that told her that he wasn’t human. But, if she remembered correctly, Hollows were all once human, just like the souls in the Soul Society. Perhaps, if she dug deeply enough, she could remind him what it felt like. “My friends are here because they care about me. No matter what you did, they know I would never come here on my own. We’ve been through too much together for them to believe I would betray them. All you did was give them a reason to come here and defeat you,” she pressed. Perhaps he would understand that way. In the context of his mission, he may comprehend that her friends’ passion made them stronger and more determined.

“You are assuming that their irrationality proves their strength, when really they are charging into a death trap. They will never reach you, and when Lord Aizen deems you unnecessary, you will become collateral damage,” he contradicted her, and her light grin faded. His indifference toward such things as friendship, compassion, and even death made her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps he was a monster. Maybe there was no way to redeem him. But she had to try. It was against everything within her to give up.

“Ulquiorra, are the other Arrancar your friends?” she demanded, becoming frustrated with his constant evasion. Her straightforwardness shocked him, and the forcefulness of her voice was rather new. Usually, when she lashed out at him, it was in anger, not concern. He took another few steps toward her, studying the way her brow was furrowed, but her eyes were sparkling with something he couldn’t identify. She still stared at the hole in his chest, which wasn’t unnerving, but puzzling.

“No,” was the simple answer, and Orihime’s expression softened.

“Have you ever _had_ friends?” she pressed, dropping some of the intensity in her tone.

“No,” he replied again, unwilling to indulge more. He had found completion in the nothingness, and it was all he had known past that point. The rejection he had found with his own kind had numbed him to the pull of companionship. “I am… different,” he muttered, internally scolding himself as soon as the words left his mouth. The meddlesome girl would want to know more. She would delve into his past and try to _fix_ him as though he were broken.

“I know you are. But that’s good,” she whispered, bringing her gaze up to meet with his. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets, and he wanted to retreat. The sensation that washed over him at her words was foreign to him. An odd tingle traveled from the crown of his head to his neck, tensing the muscles there and rendering him unable to respond.

Nihilism. It was the philosophy by which he fought, thought, and lived. If his eye, which could perceive everything, could not see it, it did not exist. This _heart_ Orihime referred to, the emotions by which she made her decisions, and the bonds she and her friends shared, were all invisible snippets of humanity that didn’t actually exist. At least, that was his _belief._ Belief didn’t always make things true. He _believed_ that his life was a void with no purpose, yet Lord Aizen had plucked him from the sands of Hueco Mundo and given him purpose. He _believed_ that emotions were fantasies that gave humans some false sense of justification for their foolish actions, yet this girl was making his body react of its own accord with her words and her touch. Were these emotions? If they were, they were painful. But, some unfamiliar, twisted part of him never wanted it to stop. It was a sickly sweet kind of pain that begged for more. Like a drug that rendered its user unable to function without it. The effects were undesirable, but the consequences of letting it go were much harsher. Why else would he have found himself back in her cell after only hours away from her? It was that infernal reaction to her touch that called him back.

Discreetly, he took a deep breath. This was weakness, and he cast it off without another thought. With nothing left to say, he turned his back on Orihime, swearing to himself that he wouldn’t visit her again until the following day. He would summon back the emptiness he embodied, following the only meaning he had ever been given. Serve Lord Aizen. Let nothing get in the way of that.

* * *

Ulquiorra stalled for as long as he could the next morning. He knew this was his only duty, but he found himself wishing he could delegate it to someone else. He didn’t want to hear what that girl would say. She had no right to make him doubt himself. His entire existence revolved around one thing, and she was slowly chipping away at the nihilism that was the center of his being. It was revolting. He sat on the edge of his bed tensely and closed his eyes, delving into the darkness of his mind. It was comfortable there. Predictable. Easy.

_If I cannot see it, it does not exist. I cannot see emotion._

_But you can feel it._

His eyes flew open, and it seemed that his entire body caught fire. That was _her_ voice in his mind. How had he let her worm her way into his thoughts? During that infinitesimal moment when he let his guard down the previous day, had she truly impacted his thinking that much? He clenched his hands to keep them from trembling, but the racing of his blood made it impossible to stop. What _was_ this? He couldn’t even take a breath without it shuddering in his throat. It was all so overwhelming that he couldn’t help the cry of frustration that forced itself from his lungs. But, as soon as his voice reached past his lips, he pinched it off, painfully holding back the anger that boiled just beneath the surface. He stood from the bed, pacing the room to try to ease the tension. His lack of control was not only concerning, but infuriating. With little predetermination of his actions, he forced a clenched fist into the nearest wall. A large crack spread from the point of impact, and with the release, he found he could breathe a bit easier.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, lowering his hand from the concrete and staring at the broken dent in the wall. _This_ was what emotion did. It took over, leaving no room for rationality. He had two choices. Incinerate these feelings that were creeping to the surface, or let them consume him.

* * *

In the dimly lit cell that was Orihime’s temporary home, she stared at her empty plate, anticipating Ulquiorra’s arrival. She was a bit less distant than before, determined to get through to her solemn caretaker. She hummed a soft tune as her eyes scanned her surroundings.

“Well, it’s no wonder he’s so sad all the time. This place is terrible. Quiet, lonely, and he’s the only one that seems like he’s not crazy,” she considered as she lifted her gaze to the crescent moon outside the window. She whipped around at the sound of her door opening, giving Ulquiorra a genuine smile as he closed the door and began to approach her. “I ate all my breakfast!” she announced proudly, but her bright grin dropped when Ulquiorra didn’t even so much as look at her. “Is… is something wrong?” she whispered. He was standing next to her now, chin tilted up to stare out at the blank sky and sharply contrasted moon. Her eyes were locked onto the right side of his face, where his mask didn’t hide the conflict in his furrowed brow. She had never seen his expression change. Never. Not even in anger.

“Tell me…” he began, his voice sticking in his throat as he considered whether or not to continue. Orihime felt something akin to pity swelling in her heart. He was fighting with it, and she was determined to tear down the walls. So, she reached out to him and placed her hand on his arm. This time, she saw his entire nonverbal response, right down to the way his eyes widened in immense shock. He was obviously reeling, overwhelmed by the sensation of being touched without violent intent. He was so accustomed to fighting. To relieve him a bit, she withdrew her hand, folding both of her hands over her chest as she continued to observe him.

“What is it, Ulquiorra?” she pressed. He relaxed a bit, but still hesitated.

“Tell me what makes you happy,” he finally forced himself to complete his request. Orihime’s entire face lit up, and he almost recoiled from the sudden change in her demeanor.

“Is that all? Of course! I mean, where should I start? I guess, my friend Tatsuki has been with me through a lot,” she began her rambling, and Ulquiorra listened. Many of her stories revolved around her friends, most of them being the same ones who had come to save her. So, he was correct in his assumption. Emotions created bonds, and those connections resulted in a dependence that caused irrational action. It made no sense for these humans to risk several lives to save one. “But I guess you wouldn’t really understand any of that,” Orihime said, cutting through his musings.

“No, I do not. Friendship is a liability that causes irrational action,” he claimed. He saw the remnants of a smile on her lips disappear at his response. She couldn’t produce a retort to that. It was true. It _wasn’t_ rational for so many of her friends to risk their own lives to rescue her.

“But we protect each other because we care. It isn’t just that we’re happy together. It’s deeper than that,” she tried, but the tension and lack of understanding never left Ulquiorra’s eyes. She sighed and cast her eyes down, her gaze catching where his hand disappeared into his pocket. He was always so closed off. So unreceptive to anything she said. What was stopping him from at least _trying_ to understand? “I, umm… I care about… you, Ulquiorra,” she muttered, holding back the tears that threatened at the edges of her eyes. It was true. She had made it her own personal mission to get through to him, and she found herself quite invested. Being a highly emotional woman herself, she couldn’t fathom the depressing emptiness Ulquiorra embodied. He may not have known it, but she believed he needed someone to show him how bright life could be. Habit had her reaching for his arm again, since his hand wasn’t accessible, but he flinched back and raised a flattened hand in preparation to strike her. The fearful yelp that left her caused him to freeze. There was genuine terror in her posture, arms raised as a feeble attempt to defend herself and eyes closed to block out the horror.

“So, you _are_ afraid of me. Duly noted,” he muttered, slowly lowering his hand back to his side. He watched as Orihime peeked through her defenses, but he didn’t expect her eyes to widen and a smile to come across her face.

“You were angry with me. That’s something,” she commented with a small, seemingly involuntary giggle. Ulquiorra scoffed and turned toward the door. “I know… negative emotions probably come more naturally to you, but…” her voice shrank into a whisper, and Ulquiorra looked back. She seemed conflicted, as though somehow his rage had both pleased and worried her. The glassiness of her eyes made something inside him twinge, and he fought it down vehemently. “Try to find something else in there, okay?” she finally finished her thought. Ulquiorra didn’t even merit her words with a glance, instead finishing the distance to the door and leaving her alone again.

Orihime stepped backward until her back collided with the cold wall of her cell. She gave a short sigh, but a small grin still rested on her lips. He was making progress. It may not have been joy, or even resigned contentment, but it was something. Perhaps she could coax out the part of him that wanted to be happy, because she could see it. She could even feel it in his conflicted energy. It was fighting to the surface, and she couldn’t have been more hopeful that _she_ could be the one to keep him from drowning.

* * *

Ulquiorra stalked back to his room, avoiding the nearby energy signatures on the way. Try as he might, he couldn’t completely replace the cold indifference he usually personified. He felt that his brow was still tense, and he knew his hurry was completely uncharacteristic of how he normally carried himself. Finally safe from prying eyes, he locked his room and leaned on the back of the door, bracing his hands on the surface. He was shaking again. It was overwhelming. Consuming him like a wildfire. It seemed he _didn’t_ have a choice. With a sudden pang of regret, his knees weakened and he slid to the floor. When his zanpakuto’s hilt dug into his hip, his eyes widened. He carefully pulled the sheath from the sash at his waist, his eyes intently studying the pale teal wrapping on the handle. In one smooth motion, he drew the weapon, placing the scabbard on the floor next to him. His reflection in the blade caused a chill to rip through his body. His eyes were fearful, his lips slightly parted with his ragged breathing.

With sudden resolve, he wrapped both hands around the hilt and turned it in his grip, lining up the sharp point with the hole in his chest. His own zanpakuto would destroy him in an instant, and this would be over. These wretched emotions would never reach him past his second grave. Staring down his own sword, something else took hold of him, and it was almost a relief. Reassurance. This was the right thing to do. He would be useless to Lord Aizen in this emotional state, and that meant his life was meaningless.

_Try to find something else in there, okay?_

His grasp tightened, and he saw the blade tremble. Was there more? Could he truly access something like joy? Right now, in the throes of depression and doubt that he had never in his life experienced, it seemed hopeless. When his vision began to blur, he dropped his zanpakuto, and the sudden clatter made him jerk back to his senses. He brought a hand to his face, and reality finally took hold when he felt wetness touch his fingertips. Giving in to the flood of devastating uncertainty, he kicked his sword aside and slumped further to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his eyes with one hand while the other formed a light grip on the edge of his mask, a part of him threatening to tear it off and end his existence that way. He wasn’t worthy of the title of Espada. He was surrendering to humanity. But, somehow, as the tears continued to flow without his consent, it was liberating to let go.


	2. Finding the Heart

After several days alone, Orihime began to wonder if something had happened to Ulquiorra. No one else had been to check on her. The silent servant who brought her meals was the only being she had contact with. Though time was a bit difficult to judge in a place that was perpetually bathed in the light of the moon, she figured it had been almost a week since her caretaker had last been present. When her door opened only shortly after her dishes had been cleared, she was a bit perplexed. It wasn’t a usual meal time. Her heart leaped into her throat when she turned to find the black-haired Arrancar she had been waiting for.

“Ulquiorra!” she called, fighting the urge to run to him. He looked to her, but her enthusiasm waned when she saw that his characteristic blank stare had returned. “Is… is everything okay?” she whispered when he reached her. He only studied her face, seeming deeply troubled. Though his expression showed her nothing, his flickering spirit energy told her everything she needed to know. Everything _wasn’t_ okay. Something had happened. In a moment of boldness, she lifted her hand to tentatively touch her fingertips to his cheek. He averted his eyes, and she swallowed a surprised gasp. He was _ashamed_ of something. “Do you want to… talk about it?” she suggested. The clenching in her chest told her it was likely a fool’s errand, but, despite everything she expected, he nodded.

“I would like your insight,” he replied hesitantly.

“Of course! Come sit down,” she offered, taking his arm and dragging him to the couch. He was taken aback by her instant willingness to help him, but he obeyed anyway, sitting a fair distance from her and folding his hands in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees. Orihime wasn’t pleased with the distance he maintained, but chose not to comment on it. “So, what’s going on?” she pressed when he was silent.

“Are emotions always so sharp and unpleasant?” was his leading inquiry. He didn’t look at her, and Orihime was fairly certain that he had positioned himself on the right side of the couch so that his mask obscured some of her view of his face. Every bit of compassion inside her wanted to scoot closer, take his hand, and assure him that things would get better. But she knew he would never accept that.

“No, there’s good emotions, too. Happiness, excitement, relaxation, there’s a ton of good things you can feel in the right circumstances,” she tried to explain. Still, while he was absorbing her words, it was clear that he didn’t understand. “I know, it has to be hard for you to imagine, living in a place like this. It’s… hard for me to be happy, too. Even things that used to make me happy kind of make me sad now. I mean, my friends are here, and that should make me happy, but they’re fighting for their lives and mine, and that makes me afraid for them,” she realized she was rambling about her own problems and her gaze snapped up to Ulquiorra, who seemed somberly contemplative.

“So, if I left this place, perhaps I could experience positive emotions,” he considered. His deduction made Orihime’s breath catch in her throat.

“I guess, yeah, probably. What happened, Ulquiorra? You’re not really thinking about leaving, are you?” she demanded. His seemingly sudden change of heart alarmed her, and she hoped this wasn’t a ruse. She didn’t want to know what kind of malicious things he could have been planning if this was all a lie.

“There was a moment, several days ago, when emotion completely took over. It was… devastating. I wanted to end my life, just to make the pain stop. If that is what emotions are, I want no part in it,” he finally explained. It took only a moment for Orihime to lose her apprehension at his words. This wasn’t a scheme to gain her trust. This was real, and Ulquiorra was suffering. Tears pooled in her eyes, and without a second thought she slid over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tentatively at first to judge his reaction.

Ulquiorra stiffened at the contact, and thought to push her away, but his curiosity got the best of him. What was this reaction his body seemed to produce out of thin air? Was it truly pain? He allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder, still unmoving. The feeling was settling, from an abrupt shock to something… warm. The longer he sat, consciously feeling her hands folded on his right shoulder, the more he felt that dreaded depression creeping up again, overwhelming the brief pleasure.

“Why?” he breathed out the word, but his voice barely functioned, sticking in his throat as a strange, heavy emptiness came upon him. As if reading his deteriorating state, Orihime shifted one hand to cup his cheek, gently urging him to look at her. He obeyed, albeit hesitantly, because he _felt_ the moisture gathering in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Ulquiorra. You can go. Try to get out of here, please,” she seemed to beg. He didn’t even want to blink, but the involuntary action dropped the waiting tears onto Orihime’s hand. She gasped, freezing in place as the salty liquid fell between her fingers. A chill washed over her at the sight of this stoic man, someone who didn’t even believe in emotion, falling apart before her. “I want… I want you to be happy,” she whispered, softly moving her thumb under his eye to wipe away the trail of moisture that followed the marks on his cheeks.

“I am not leaving you here,” he decided suddenly. He stood from next to her, but his eyes never left her face. The tension in her neck and the tightness of her lips was familiar. “Are you afraid?” he inquired. She shook her head and gave her best smile, despite the anxiety that welled up in her heart at the prospect of what he was proposing.

“No, I’m not,” she replied, standing and taking his hand. His gaze jerked down to their hands, and just as suddenly back up to her eyes. “I’m going to be with you from now on, okay? _We’re_ going to get out of here. Together,” she promised. Ulquiorra couldn’t help but look back down to their connected hands. It burned, somehow, but the feeling wasn’t harmful. In fact, as the warmth spread up his arm, it was strangely pleasant.

“Yes, we will. I am unsure how to proceed, with how suddenly and unrelentingly these emotions have taken hold, but I do know that I need you if I am going to cope with this,” he admitted. Without warning, her arms were around him again, and he withheld a shocked gasp. He held his hands carefully away from her, uncertain what to do in response. Sensing his discomfort, she backed away, casting her eyes down to the floor.

“Sorry. I just… I’m glad,” she whispered. Physical contact still confused him, but he accepted that it was something he may become accustomed to in time. So far, it seemed to be a form of comfort for these humans. But that was something different. Was it an involuntary response to the relief he felt in her spiritual pressure? He had to admit, underneath the confusion and shock, there _was_ another emotion fighting its way to the surface at her acceptance and enthusiasm. He returned his hands to his pockets, reveling in the comfort of the familiar posture he always held.

“Thus far, I have only experienced suffocating anger and sadness, but the prospect of leaving this place with you has me feeling something else. Perhaps… perhaps I am _glad_ as well.” At his words, Orihime had to hold back from throwing her arms around him again, instead settling for looking up to him with a bright smile. Despite the blank expression that dulled his eyes and held his lips in an emotionless frown, she could sense the slow change in him. She felt it in his spiritual pressure. Something that had _never_ been there before. Peace.

* * *

In the next few days, Ulquiorra laid out his plan to Orihime, who was determined to see this through even though her heart pounded and fear threatened to take over every time he mentioned it. Each day, Ichigo drew closer, and that was what her Arrancar captor was waiting for. Ichigo was strong enough to cover their escape, and perhaps even stop Aizen in the process. In the meantime, Orihime entertained Ulquiorra’s requests to enlighten him on customs of the human world. He never truly believed he would be accepted there, but as long as he had this one girl by his side, he knew he would survive.

“You know, I don’t even know if most humans can see Hollows. But you’d still have friends! There’s me, Ichigo, Chad, and Uryu, and sometimes Soul Reapers come to visit. Oh, and there’s Mr. Urahara! Maybe he can help you! I know he’s given the Soul Reapers a way to be able to hang out in town without being invisible,” she rambled. He noticed it was something she did often when she was comfortable, but he found her openness endearing. Not only that, but he was amazed at how very complicated and crowded it seemed this foreign world was. He had been there, of course, but only briefly, and not with the intent to study it.

“I doubt a former Soul Reaper captain would be interested in helping me,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right and resting his chin in his palm on the arm of the couch. Orihime knew he frequently tried to relax in her presence, but his closed-off position was also familiar. She couldn’t see his face when he leaned away from her like that, though his expressions told her much less than the wavering of his spirit energy.

“Well, if you save my life, there’s no way anyone there will think you’re evil. I know you’re not. You were just… alone. That’s no way to live,” she insisted. He shook his head, only partially turning to her to reply.

“Las Noches is teeming with activity. I am in no way alone,” he muttered. Suddenly, she was next to him, so close their hips almost touched.

“You’re alone in your heart,” she whispered. When she glanced up to his severe glare, she giggled. “Don’t look at me like that. You _have_ a heart, Ulquiorra,” she claimed. Ulquiorra averted his eyes again, staring up to the moon that shone steadfast in the sky beyond the barred window. This girl was becoming increasingly casual in his presence, and though he enjoyed it, gleaning from it what he needed to survive the tumultuous emotions that only grew each day, it was going to make it more difficult to let her go. The worst case scenario was sure to come true, and Ulquiorra inwardly cringed at the thought of how he planned to react.

Suddenly, immense spiritual pressure pulsed through the walls, and he stood quickly, positioning himself in front of the only exterior wall of the cell. He looked to Orihime, who still seemed stunned at such power.

“You are to do exactly as I say, understand? If I tell you to run, you run. Do _not_ hesitate to leave me,” Ulquiorra instructed. Orihime’s worried gaze shot up to him, and she paused before nodding, summoning back her determination. “Stand back,” he added. Orihime vacated the couch and retreated toward the door, staring at the Espada’s back as he lifted his hand. With one finger pointed toward their escape route, she felt an absolutely crushing amount of spirit energy gathering around him. When he released it, a wide beam of green light was expelled, effectively destroying the wall. Though his strength was expected, and should have instilled in her a bit of confidence, it was terrifying. In an instant, he was next to her, taking her by the wrist and pulling her into a blindingly fast Sonído. In only a moment, they were outside, and Ulquiorra had shifted to place an arm around her waist, supporting her as they floated just above the wall that separated Las Noches and the rest of Hueco Mundo.

“Orihime! Let her go, bastard!” Ichigo’s voice rang out, and before Orihime had even located him, he had appeared before them, zanpakuto drawn and fire in his eyes.

“I knew you were nearby, Ichigo Kurosaki, and I knew an explosion would be too much for you to ignore. So predictable,” Ulquiorra taunted.

“Stop, Ichigo! He wants to help!” Orihime insisted. She saw Ichigo’s intensity waver for a moment before he hardened his glare again.

“I don’t know what lies he’s been feeding you, but I promise you he isn’t out to help you,” he called across the distance between them.

“We do not have time for your doubts, Kurosaki. I _am_ intent to get Orihime back home, but that is a story for another time. For now, you must cooperate if we are all to get out of this alive,” Ulquiorra stated. Uncertainty flashed in deep amber eyes, and Orihime read his distress at once.

“Ichigo, he’s telling the truth. He--”

“Oh, he _is_ telling the truth. I didn’t think my most loyal pet would betray me,” a chilling lilt preceded the appearance of the current ruler of Las Noches. Ulquiorra’s eyes widened, and his grip on Orihime tightened, though from fear or a need to protect her, she was unsure. “I’ve been watching you, Ulquiorra. I thought perhaps this was all a ruse to get Orihime to trust you, but I see I was wrong. So, I must eliminate you. It’s too bad. You had potential,” Aizen teased, a mocking smile spreading on his lips as his eyes narrowed menacingly.

“Ichigo, take Orihime! I will open a--” but Ulquiorra’s demands were interrupted by a blast of energy piercing his left shoulder. He cried out in pain, losing his grip on Orihime. Still, he had no time to recover before he was being assaulted again. Ichigo reacted quickly, much to his expectations, and caught Orihime before she was hurt.

Orihime watched from below as Ulquiorra was repeatedly impaled by strong Kido spells. Ichigo was astounded at the compassion in her eyes as she looked up to him. Something had certainly happened behind the walls of that castle, but he was hesitant to ask, and now certainly wasn’t the time to breach the subject.

“Come on, Orihime. We have to get out of here,” he pressed instead, attempting to drag her away while Aizen was distracted.

“No, I can help! I can heal him! I can’t let him do this!” she screamed, fighting against Ichigo’s grasp with tears in her eyes. They broke through and drenched her cheeks as she watched Ulquiorra taking punishment for helping her. He was fighting back now, but he had been weakened by the element of surprise.

“Let him die for you if he wants! I’m not letting you get hurt again!” Ichigo said sternly, wrenching her into his field of vision and meeting her eyes. “Listen to yourself. He _kidnapped_ you, and you want to help him?” he demanded. Orihime nodded, holding back the sobs that threatened to rip through her.

“He’s changed, Ichigo. I _have_ to help him in any way I can,” she insisted through the emotion that garbled her voice. Ichigo sighed and looked back up to the battle that raged above them.

“I don’t know what happened in there, but I’m going to have to trust you. Still, he’s fighting Aizen so we can escape, so we have to go,” he maintained his resolve. Orihime yelped when he took her in his arms, fighting against his grip.

“No! I can’t leave him! Ichigo… Ichigo, I--” the words seemed trapped in her throat, but when she felt the characteristic jolt of energy that signified a flash step, she let loose her thoughts. _“I love him!”_ she called out. It seemed that the entire world went silent, Ichigo frozen in place with her pressed against his chest, prepared to dash away from danger. She looked up to Ulquiorra, whose eyes were wide as he stared down to her. Aizen’s haunting laughter rang out over the emptiness of Hueco Mundo, and only more tears flooded Orihime’s cheeks. Suddenly, Ulquiorra was in front of her, taking advantage of the distraction. She flinched when his hands came up to either side of her head, but her heart felt like it stopped completely when she heard a light shatter and her hair fell from where it was clipped behind her ears. Tiny blue shards rained down to the sand, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from Ulquiorra’s forceful glare. He slowly lowered his hands to his sides, not showing her even a shred of emotion. It was difficult, seeing the pain he had caused her but still needing to hold back from consoling her. There would be time for that. Perhaps. If he survived.

“You have no reason to be here. Without your powers, you will only get in the way,” he stated harshly. With a flick of his wrist, a segmented, black portal appeared behind Orihime and Ichigo. “Take her home, Ichigo,” he instructed, briefly shifting his harsh emerald gaze to the man behind her. However, Ichigo shook his head.

“Against my better judgment, I’m trusting you, Ulquiorra,” he growled. With one quick motion, he turned and pushed Orihime through the Garganta, and in her emotional state, she was powerless to fight against him. The portal slammed shut, and Ichigo looked over his shoulder to a shocked Arrancar. “You broke her Shun Shun Rikka to protect her. I get that. So, I’m fighting with you,” he offered. Ulquiorra nodded and turned back up to their enemy.

“I know his weaknesses, Ichigo. _You_ are likely the only person who can defeat him, because you have not been influenced by his zanpakuto. When you see me succumbing to the illusion, strike with all of your power,” he instructed. Ichigo gave a short nod and allowed Ulquiorra to confront Aizen first, hanging back to wait for his opportunity.

Ulquiorra darted up to face his master, the one who had given him a chance to have a purpose. He felt he was indebted to the man for a time, but after realizing what had been hidden from him, causing him to live half a life, still shrouded in the emptiness, he had begun to loathe Sosuke Aizen. He hadn’t saved him from anything. He had used him, taking advantage of his lack of feeling to create the most effective pawn.

“Ulquiorra, I’m ashamed of you. Embarrassed for you, really. Giving into something that isn’t even real. She doesn’t _love_ you, and if you believe she does, you’re more of a fool than I ever thought possible. You’re going to be alone forever. You do know that, right? You’ve lived your entire life that way, and it won’t be any different when you die,” Aizen rambled, only allowing the anger within Ulquiorra to build as he spoke. Without hesitation, Ulquiorra drew his sword and charged in. The jolt of Aizen’s bare hand catching the blade drew the Arrancar into a place he loved. The battle-crazed smirk on Aizen’s lips caused him to sink back into the void. He had one goal, and no amount of emotion would stop him from achieving it. With movements faster than any normal human could see, Ulquiorra broke away from his enemy, using his advanced Sonído to appear behind him. But, before he could even make contact, Aizen had predicted his movement and whipped around with a counterattack. A harsh Kido blast impaled his chest, just barely offset from the permanent hole below his collarbone.

Ichigo read Aizen’s distraction and moved in for an attack, impatient with Ulquiorra’s _stay and wait_ strategy. With Zangetsu raised high, he brought the blade down, only to be stopped by a simple touch of Aizen’s fingertip. Ichigo’s eyes widened, and he let out a grunt of effort as he allowed his spiritual pressure to pour into his sword. Still, Aizen held strong, throwing a confident sneer over his shoulder.

“The two of you are dirt. Even together, you will never overpower me, and then I’ll have _my_ way with Orihime Inoue,” the former captain boasted. Mention of the girl who had been in his care caused Ulquiorra’s eyes to widen, and he took an attempt to run his sword through the man’s heart.

“Ulquiorra, no!” Ichigo’s voice barely reached him before Aizen’s form shattered on impact, his blade instead sinking into Ichigo’s shoulder. He withdrew immediately, but the damage had been done. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Focus on Aizen,” Ichigo insisted at Ulquiorra’s stunned silence. Had emotions dulled his instincts that thoroughly, or had Aizen’s appearance rattled him more than he first thought?

“Time to dispose of the _trash._ That’s what you like to call those who are useless to you, is it not, Ulquiorra?” Aizen’s voice hardly reached his ears before a blinding amount of pain rushed him from behind.

“Finish him, Ichigo,” were the last words he could force past his lips before he began to fall. This was it, wasn’t it? His vision was darkening, and he closed his eyes in resignation.

_I tried, Orihime._

_I am a shadow of who I once was._

_So easily trampled._

_Because I was thinking of you._

_It is a fitting way for me to die._

_No chance to release my power._

_No chance to have my revenge._

_Weak._

_Because I found emotion._

_I found my heart._

_With you._

_“Ulquiorra!” the call was faint, but somehow he heard it in his unconscious world. “Ulquiorra, open a Garganta! Take us to Orihime!” the same weak, forced voice tried to sound demanding. Had Ichigo won? Or were they fleeing? “Ulquiorra, you don’t have much time! Do it now!” the voice begged. With what felt like the last of his energy, he attempted to lift his hand, channeling power into a portal._

* * *

Orihime paced Kisuke Urahara’s shop, too distracted to accept his offer of tea. She could feel nothing in the way of Ichigo or Ulquiorra’s energy signature from the Living World, and that only depressed and frustrated her.

“Hey, Ichigo is gonna come back, okay?” Kisuke assured her. But she only shook her head. She had told the shopkeeper bits and pieces of her time in Hueco Mundo, but he seemed in disbelief at Ulquiorra’s abrupt change. He claimed that Hollows truly didn’t have hearts. They couldn’t feel. But Orihime knew better. She had witnessed it herself. She had seen the fear, anger, and immense sadness in Ulquiorra’s eyes over the days they had spent together.

Suddenly, Kisuke shot up from his seat and rushed out to the front of the store. Orihime followed, sensing the energy outside just after he did. But, when she broke the threshold of the door, she took a step back, wishing she had stayed inside. Ichigo was bloodied, barely on his feet, but he was very much alive. In his arms, limp and lifeless, was Ulquiorra. There was no evidence of wounds on him, only Ichigo’s blood soaking the white coat he wore. Her heart leaped when she realized she could do nothing to help them.

“Orihime,” Ichigo breathed, stumbling forward for a moment before catching his balance again.

“Let’s get inside,” Kisuke insisted, taking Ichigo’s waist and supporting him as he led him into the store and behind the counter. His eyes constantly flicked to the Arrancar in Ichigo’s arms. Orihime trailed behind them, holding back tears. She had no idea if Ulquiorra was even alive, but she didn’t want to ask. So, she observed silently, standing in the doorway of a room in the far back. Ichigo carefully lay Ulquiorra down on a sleeping pad before crashing to the floor himself, exhausted.

“Aizen. Aizen is dead,” Ichigo panted. Kisuke’s eyes widened under the brim of his hat, but a smile spread on his lips after that.

“Then I suppose Las Noches will likely destroy itself in time without Aizen’s hand. We’ll send word for the reinforcements from the Soul Society to collect Chad and Uryu and bring them home,” he decided. Ichigo grunted as he attempted to nod. Kisuke raised his hands over Ichigo’s battered body, but the boy shook his head as vehemently as could.

“No, him first. He’s still alive. Save him,” he forced the words out before a heavy cough surfaced, forcing blood from his mouth. Kisuke looked doubtful. “ _Do it!_ He has less time left than I do,” he commanded, his voice rattling in his throat. Orihime couldn’t even feel the barrage of tears that dripped from her chin. So much flooded her mind. Ichigo was mortally wounded, but _both_ of them were alive. She stared through the moisture in her eyes as well as she could when Kisuke shifted to kneel next to Ulquiorra, green healing Kido wrapping the Arrancar’s body in tendrils of energy. Slowly, very slowly, she felt Ulquiorra’s familiar spiritual pressure cascading through the room. Unable to hold back any longer, she stepped to Ulquiorra’s other side, taking his hand and twining her fingers through his.

“He was struck by a very high-level Kido. I can still feel it fighting against the healing. It’s going to take several days for him to be able to even _start_ to try to regain his power. Why did you save him, Ichigo? Healing a Hollow is leaving a bad taste in my mouth,” Kisuke asked softly.

“He protected Orihime. He offered to fight Aizen with me. He opened the Garganta that brought us back here. He’s not…” a wet cough interrupted his explanation, and Kisuke was still simply absorbing what had happened. “He’s not our enemy,” Ichigo finally finished when he regained control of his voice. Kisuke nodded. The older man scoffed as he broke out of the healing spell he had set.

“He’s stable now. That’s the best I can do right now if I’m going to have enough energy for both of you. Once I heal most of Ichigo’s wounds, I’ll go get Hachi,” he said, his eyes darting up to Orihime. She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I wish I could help,” she whispered. Kisuke only shook his head to dismiss her comment as he turned to Ichigo. Orihime looked down to Ulquiorra and tightened her grip on his hand. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but thank you. Thank you for saving me,” she spoke quietly, lifting her free hand to trail a light touch over his forehead, pushing his hair away from his eyes. She wanted so badly for him to open his eyes. Just so she could be assured that he was, in fact, going to wake up. The gentle movement of his chest as he breathed was a small comfort, but it wasn’t a guarantee.

To her, he wasn’t just a Hollow. He wasn’t even _just_ an Arrancar, or an Espada. He was someone she had grown to deeply care for. Someone her heart hurt for. Someone she would have deeply mourned if he hadn’t held on. But she felt the energy within him now. He was going to recover, she was sure of it, and she was already counting the minutes until those sharp green eyes would open. She would be the first person he saw. She swore it.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Kisuke came to her with another cup of tea. Ichigo had been permitted to go home. Hachi’s amazing ability had afforded him a full recovery. But, with the difference in spirit energy between Ichigo and a Hollow, Hachi had poured as much as he could into Ulquiorra before he was forced to halt his efforts. Orihime had seen the strain in his eyes when he admitted that the technique he used for healing was less effective on Ulquiorra’s dark spiritual pressure.

“You should go home. I’m sure if he wakes up, he’ll want to see you. I’ll come get you,” he offered. It was the kindest she had ever heard him, but still she refused the offer.

“No, I have to be here when he wakes up,” she insisted. Kisuke watched her for a moment, concerned as she stared at the Arrancar on the floor. With a sigh, he stood and exited the room.

_Ulquiorra was fighting to the surface in his comatose state. He felt his energy returning, but he still couldn’t move. There was a hand holding his. It had to be Orihime. No one else had ever made him feel such comforting warmth. He settled into the sensation, and as he allowed his spiritual pressure to regain its strength, he considered what she had said. She loved him. What was the meaning of that? He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what the words themselves meant. But what did it mean to_ her _? With heart involved, what was love? An attachment? An attraction? An obligation?_

 _It was certainly something he knew nothing about. Something else she would have to teach him, along with happiness. That was what he wanted to feel first. Happiness. Pleasure just for living. How long would it take before he was able to smile? To truly let down the walls and_ feel _something other than pain?_

_Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his cheek. A soft voice begging him to wake up. He wanted to. Delving into what spirit energy he had regained, he fought to open his eyes._

When his eyes fluttered open, Orihime gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth. It took a moment for Ulquiorra’s vision to clear, but as soon as it did, he propped up on his elbows, taking in his surroundings.

“I survived,” he whispered. Finally, his gaze swept up to the girl next to him, and the smile under her hand lit up her eyes. Slowly, he finished sitting up, and Orihime gave him only a moment to steady himself before she was throwing her arms around him, crying into his chest. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice still not having the strength he desired.

“I’m just so happy,” she spluttered through her tears. This only served to confuse him more.

“Happiness can bring tears?” he inquired. She giggled and looked up to him with a small nod.

“Sometimes,” she replied.

“You have much to teach me about emotions,” he admitted.

“I’m just glad I have the chance,” she told him. With her initial flood of relief waning, she settled for resting her head on his right shoulder, her arms still around his back. Her eyes widened and a steady, comforting warmth coursed through her veins when Ulquiorra returned her embrace and leaned his cheek on the top of her head.

Ulquiorra let out an involuntary sigh, melting into her touch willingly and holding her as closely as he dared, fearing that the edge of his mask would dig into her if his grip was too strong. The peace that invaded him left him in a state of surrender that he had never even considered. Letting down his guard so thoroughly was against everything he believed in. But he could finally feel it. The thing he had been searching for. Happiness.

* * *

“Ulquiorra, I have something for you!” Kisuke’s enthusiastic voice called through the back of the store. The Arrancar had been living at the small shop for nearly a week, and Kisuke had been working on something private the entire time. Something he kept simply calling a surprise for his newest guest. Ulquiorra perked up from his cup of tea, staring suspiciously at the shopkeeper as he swept into the room. “Come on, it’s back here,” Kisuke beckoned. Hesitantly, he set down his tea cup and followed him into an area he had never investigated. It was positively brimming with equipment the likes of which Ulquiorra had never seen. He was led to a corner, where an odd form stood.

“What is this?” Ulquiorra asked.

“It’s a gigai! But not just any gigai,” Kisuke began his explanation, trailing off as though trying to build suspense. Ulquiorra refused to humor him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and waiting patiently for him to continue. “ _This_ gigai will allow you to retain all of your powers. And once you fuse with it, you can stay in this gigai forever. Train, live, do everything. It won’t affect your spiritual pressure at all,” Kisuke bragged. Ulquiorra was impressed, but something in his explanation caused a bit of anxiety to strike him.

“What is the process for fusing with a gigai?” he inquired, fearful of the answer.

“Oh, it’s simple. You just step into it. You’re already a soul, and the special fibers of the gigai will bond with your form and solidify it into a something like a human,” Kisuke explained. Ulquiorra nodded, eyeing the blank form before him. “Well? Go on,” Kisuke pressed. The Arrancar took a deep breath and stepped toward the gigai, finally steeling his resolve and taking the last few strides to fuse his soul with the empty vessel. There was a slight tug within him, but he gave into it willingly. Within moments, the process was complete. Overall, he felt the same. “Does anything feel strange?” Kisuke asked, walking around him and studying his form.

“No, everything feels the same,” Ulquiorra confirmed. Kisuke continued his study, running his hand down Ulquiorra’s arm as he passed as though being sure that the fusion had occurred properly.

“You don’t _look_ quite the same,” Kisuke commented absently. Ulquiorra’s heart jumped into overdrive at the comment. Wait. His _heart_. He couldn’t help but slap his hand to the left side of his chest, clutching at his shirt. It was there, under his skin. The rapid, but steady pace of his heartbeat. “Oh, yeah, you’re human anatomically now, so you’ll have to be more careful in training and in combat, and you’ll have to take it easy at first until you know how this body reacts to your power,” Kisuke warned him. But those concerns were far from his mind. He moved his hand to the right slightly, and realized that the hole in his chest was gone. There was soft flesh under the fabric of his shirt.

“Do you… do you have a mirror?” Ulquiorra requested, his voice attempting to hide in his throat.

“Oh, yeah, come over here,” Kisuke directed him, pulling him to a full-length mirror on the opposite side of the lab. Ulquiorra had to fight down hysterics when he took in the complete image of his human form. He brought his hand to the left side of his face, which was free of the Hollow mask. His skin was pale, but ivory instead of ashen in color, and the marks under his eyes had disappeared.

“Thank you, Kisuke. This is more than I could have ever asked for,” he admitted. Kisuke shrugged.

“Well, I enjoyed the challenge. I’ve never made a gigai for a Hollow’s soul before. We have a visitor. I think she’ll be wanting to see you,” he said, jerking his head toward the door of the lab. Ulquiorra couldn’t help the earnestness in his steps as he made his way to the makeshift living room, where he knew Orihime would be waiting. As soon as he burst through the door, he saw her eyes widen, and she didn’t even hesitate before running to him and throwing her arms around his waist.

“Ulquiorra,” she breathed his name, holding him to her tightly. “Mr. Urahara told me what he was doing. How does it feel?” she asked him. He returned her hug for only a moment before pressing her back by her shoulders.

“It is absolutely surreal,” he replied. In his ecstasy, he leaned in to press his lips to hers, holding contact for a moment to gauge her response. She didn’t even hesitate, smiling into the contact and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The response of the human body Ulquiorra now inhabited was astounding. Heat invaded him, seeming to gather in his cheeks, and his heart raced until it felt that it would actually pierce his ribcage. He pulled away, overwhelmed with the newness of it all.

“You’re blushing,” Orihime giggled, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. For the first time, a shy smile passed over Ulquiorra’s lips, and Orihime’s heart skipped. “You’re smiling!” she exclaimed with a bright grin. Uncontrollable giggling took over as Ulquiorra’s cheeks deepened in shade and his smile widened. Suddenly, he took her hand from where it was rested on his face.

“Feel this,” he said urgently, pressing her palm to the left side of his chest. Orihime’s elated laughter only continued when she felt the racing heart under the surface. “I have a heart,” he whispered. Orihime looked up to meet his radiant emerald eyes, and her overjoyed expression tamed a bit, the small smile that remained on her lips causing calm to wash over the former Espada.

“You always did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Leave kudos or a comment if you'd like!


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